


The Haunting of Bruno Serrano

by sporklift



Category: Crazy Ex-Girlfriend (TV)
Genre: Cats, Gen, Kid Fic, Really not as funny as it seems
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-23
Updated: 2016-12-23
Packaged: 2018-09-11 12:46:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8980291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sporklift/pseuds/sporklift
Summary: Before Gravy Miffy Muffins, Josh Chan thought cats were haunted. Here's why.





	

**Author's Note:**

> So, while I’ve got a major project in the beta-process, I decided to kick back and write something just kind of fluffy and fun. This was the result. 
> 
> The considerations from this fic are, basically, that we know Greg had a cat at some point in his life (from the first chorus of _Greg’s Drinking Song_ ) and we know Josh thought cats were haunted. I took those two, relatively unrelated ideas, and smashed them together to create….this. 
> 
> Special shout out to my mom, who used to be a first/second grade teacher, and helped me with Josh's seven-year-old spelling. 
> 
> I...uh...hope you enjoy.

The first sleepover Josh ever had was at Greg’s house. They were seven and Josh felt very, very cool because of it.  Jayma didn’t have sleepovers till she was eight and a half. And he didn’t even get homesick. 

Maybe a little, but that wasn’t until the lights were out  in Greg’s living room. He was  staring at the ceiling and Greg was snoring, lying on top of his sleeping bag like some kind of bizarro, with a blanket wrapped around the top of his head. There was a pretty good chance that people didn’t actually sleep like that. A chance Greg was faking and maybe they could sneak into the kitchen without waking up Mr. Serrano and steal those cinnamon buns they’re supposed to wait to have for breakfast. Or put in an extra VHS as long as they had the volume on low. 

He just didn’t want to have to lay down and try to sleep and have all that time to miss his own bed and his blankets and the nightlight he didn’t need that they kept on in the hallway so Mom and Dad could reach Jastenity when she cried in the middle of the night. 

Josh shimmied his arms out of the sleeping bag. “ _ Psst.”  _ He whispered, “ _ Psst.”  _

Greg just rolled over with a loud snort. 

“Greg. Pssst.” Josh tried again. 

“ _ No... _ mmm... _ ”  _ Greg mumbled under his breath between loud snores. “Slee...sleeping.” 

Josh sighed. Well, so that’s probably a no on pulling an all-nighter. 

And that’s when her caught something out of the corner of his eye. Something, fast, dark, and whooshing in the dark. 

He turned and saw it out of the corner of his eyes. Two, sinister, floating yellow eyes, inching closer and closer in the dark. 

Josh immediately dove under his sleeping bag, just as he heard  the monster sneak by on evil padded feet.

 

* * *

 

 

“I’m telling you!” Josh insisted the next morning. Greg had crumbs in the corner of his mouth and was under no position to not take him seriously. “I saw it!” 

Greg took a big gulp of milk, outfitting him with a huge milk moustache. At the same time, Bruno, Greg’s brown and white striped tabby kitten, lurched up onto the chair and then the counter. Greg gestured to the cat with his cup full of milk, accidentally sloshing it on the table. “It was probably just Bruno.” 

Mr. Serrano took a step away from the stove, where he was grilling his own breakfast of eggs and thumbing the ash off his cigarette and into the garbage disposal. “Greg. Napkins. Remember ‘em?” And then to Josh he added between puffs of smoke. “But that does make sense. It was probably just Bruno. Cats are nocturnal.” 

“Nocturnal?” Josh repeated, trying out the new fancy word on his tongue. 

“It means they’re awake at night,” Greg added in, licking the icing off his cinnamon roll. 

“But Bruno’s awake now.” Josh frowned. “And it’s day.” 

“They’re most awake at night.” Greg finished. He added in a moment later, obnoxious Greg-grin intact, waving his hands in the air like he was trying to scare his friend . “Like a vampire.  _ Boooo!”  _

To that, Josh scoffed. “Vampires aren’t real. And they don’t make that sound. Ghosts do.” 

* * *

  
  


The next night, even in his own bed, though, he was stuck with the image of Bruno levitating into the air, wailing and screeching. 

But that was just a nightmare. His mom reminded him of that while she was helping him change the sheets after he wet the bed that night. 

All in all, his mom was very comforting. After he cleaned up and his bed was all made, she tucked him in, whispering, “It was just a bad dream. You’ll feel better about it in the morning.” 

* * *

 

And, for what it matters, he did feel better about it the next day. Up until he went back to Greg’s house later in the week to play, and he saw none other than Bruno, staring...intently...at the wall. Not out the window or anything. Just….at the wall. 

And then the next time, he and Greg were playing James Bond in the living room. They’d spent a decent amount of time arguing over who got to be Bond, Greg said because it was his house  _ he  _ should be Bond and Josh said because he was the guest  _ he  _ should be Bond. And then they sorted it over rock-paper-scissors. Josh was  _ smart  _ and chose rock. Greg wasn’t so much and chose scissors. 

And so Josh burst in with some epic crime-fighting moves and then Greg spun around in the easy-chair, with Bruno on his lap, stroking the feline in a way that should’ve looked menacing. 

And it would have. If not for the way the cat was...digging into Greg’s stomach. 

“ _ What’s your cat doing?”  _

Greg narrowed his brow. “That wasn’t very 007.” 

Just like a ghost trying to bury its spirit into its host, Josh decided with a rather pronounced gasp. 

(Ultimately, though, he didn’t tell Greg. At least not with more proof.)

 

* * *

 

And, so he started investigating. He had a black notebook that he was  _ technically  _ supposed to be using for his subtraction and recorded every last piece of evidence he could find. Ultimately he came up with a whole list of weird things Bruno did. For example, squeezing into tiny spaces, like the empty cabinet on the entertainment center where VHS tapes should go. Or into the shoebox Greg had in his room whenever they cleared out the action figures. Or that creepy, otherworldly, clicking noise he’d let out whenever there were birds by the window (but, Josh noticed, never at Mr. Serrano’s macaws). 

Or the way Bruno’d just  _ randomly  _ zoom around the house, to various rooms, like he owned the place. Or, like he was trying to find an escape. 

But, most eerily, and most convincingly, sometimes Bruno would just  _ stare  _ at him. Stare at him with those eyes that were sometimes green and sometimes yellow, soulless and cold and piercing deep into his soul. In an exact way that nothing from this world could possibly do. 

And, well, in Josh’s mind, that settled it. Bruno Serrano, the cat of Josh’s very best friend in the whole world, was haunted. 

“What cha got there?” Jayma asked, nosing over his shoulder just like an annoying big sister would, one night when Josh was adding his newest piece of evidence:  _  Skrached Gregs’ arm up.  _

And if that wasn’t the final proof, Josh didn’t know what was! What kind of pet scratched his owner? Either on that was super uncool or, one that was haunted. 

He answered his sister, still writing his evidence very carefully in pencil. “I’m proving Greg’s cat is haunted.” 

“With that?” Jayma asked, tilting her head from one side to the other. She pointed at one sentence. “What does that say?” 

Josh read it off: “Clicks at birds.” 

“I don’t think you have to worry about that.” 

“Why not?” Josh frowned, looking up from his literal months worth of hardcore detective work. 

“Both of the Ashleys and Sarah all have cats. They all do stuff like that.” Jayma said, patting her little brother on the shoulder and promptly leaving the room as if she hadn’t just laid the biggest revelation on Josh’s lap that he’s ever had, in his whole seven years of life. 

If all cats acted just like Bruno…

And if Bruno was haunted…

That meant…

_ All  _ cats were haunted. 

Josh didn’t know what to do with this revelation, but he wrote it down, diligently, for such a day that he’d have to use it again. 

_ All cats are hawted.  _


End file.
